Hearts on Wings
by littlestarxoxo
Summary: What would the story of Cinderella be like if the ball wasn't the first time her and the Prince had met? What if they had known each other as children? Had been friends even? A retelling of the classic tale with a bit of a twist.


Chapter 1: Isabella

When she was 6, he was 8.

She didn't remember much from when they were very young except for the day they met. She remembered walking into the castle, hand-in-hand with her father. She didn't remember why they had gone or how they got there. Honestly, she remember next to nothing of her first visit to the palace but she did remember meeting him.

She stood behind her father's leg, clutching onto the fabric of the pants he was wearing, glancing out every once in a while to catch a glimpse of the boy standing before her father, conversing like a gentleman despite being so young. She shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, the fabric of her dress twirling around her thin little legs as she watched him. She was young but already had an eye for beauty and this boy was beautiful. Dark brown hair that looked soft and silky, a smile that was sharp but not scary nor intimidating, on the contrary, it pulled her in, calmed her down and made the boy seem, well, inviting. He was already tall and held good posture, he wore very regal clothing that was clean and crisp. His nose was thin but not too thin and turned up slightly at the end making his face look rather adorable despite the sharp features of his cheekbones and jaw line. It was then, as she was scrutinizing his gorgeous face, that the boys attention fell to her and it was then that her heart flutter for his eyes were the most beautiful of all his many intriguing qualities. They were blue, the prettiest blue she'd ever seen, deep and mysterious yet brimming with curiosity and playfulness. His eyes seemingly sparkled and she noticed flecks of a lighter blue scattered around his irises. He smiled at her sweetly and his eyes curved and crinkled making him looks so gentle, so welcoming.

"Introduce yourself, dear." She looked up at her father as he beckoned her out from behind him. Slowly, keeping her head down in an attempt to keep the slight blush reddening her cheeks unseen, she stepped forward and began to play with them hem of her dress as she spoke.

"Hello, my name is Isabella." She managed to pronunciate clearly despite the nervousness that came with talking to such a gorgeous person. She lifted a hand lightly before her and he took it in his larger one gently, placing a soft and fleeting kiss to the back of it.

"Hello, Isabella. I'm Prince Charles, it's a pleasure to meet you." He had leaned forward a bit so that he may look up into her down turned face. The corners of his lips twitched when he saw that the girl, Isabella, was blushing profusely.

"And I, you." She replied pleasantly. He gave the girl one last smile before releasing her fragile hand and allowing her to return to her place behind her father. Her father, who found the children's little exchange quite amusing, let out a small chuckle which earned him a questioning glance from his beloved daughter. He then turned to Charles.

"I have some business to attend to involving your father," he addressed the small boy respectfully. "Would you mind watching over my daughter for a short while?"

"Of course, sir, I would love to." Isabella's eyes grew wide as her father pulled lightly on her little arm so that she unwittingly was detached from his pant leg and left standing awkwardly in front of the other child. Her father was quick to the door, exiting brightly and comically.

"Don't break her while I'm gone! Adieu!" With that, he slipped out of the large room, the oversized door shutting with a small echo. After the sound died away the two young were left in silence. Charles took this moment to eye the younger which he had not been able to do well early seeing as she had been hidden behind her father before. Now that she stood before him, out in the open, with nowhere to hide, he decided that she was quite the sight. Still young and not yet old enough for a thing like beauty but he could tell that beautiful was exactly where this girl was headed. She was small in stature, making her seem dainty and offering her much grace. Her porcelain skin made her seem fragile, breakable and something you'd want to protect. Long, golden locks fell over her small shoulders, framing a face that was innocent and sweet. Her eyes were large and bore long thick lashes that fluttered over blue orbs. Not dark blue like his, they had more grey in them. His gaze dropped to her peachy pink and smooth lips. He decided he was right, this girl was definitely going to be beautiful one day.

"Come along, Ella," he said with a smile, offering an arm to the little girl. Her lip pouted at the use of a nickname and he smiled at the realization that this girl was not like other girls. She wasn't trying to be perfect like many but wasn't blatantly rude like some. She was perfect without trying and had a personality, something you didn't see often in young ladies but something Charles admired greatly. "I'll show you around the palace."

She seemed to think for a second, questioning if she should take up the offer and in the end she did, folding her small hand lightly into the crook of his waiting arm. He then swept her away to the gardens seeing as the day was warm but not hot and Isabella seemed like the outdoorsy kind of girl anyway. As they slowly padded through the intricate maze of blossoms and fruit trees, wonderfully cut shrubs and enticing smells they exchanged small talk and some simple banter and soon began laughing with each other comfortably. Gardeners or palace visitors cooed over how sweet the sight of the two young children were. Together they created an atmosphere that made passersby giddy at the sight of the young prince escorting the beautiful young girl. Lost in their own little world, time escaped them and what felt like faster than either of them could fathom it was time for Charles' afternoon lesson and for Isabella to go home.

She couldn't remember exactly how they parted ways or what time of the day it had been but she did remember how wonderful, how magical, how perfect that day had seemed. What she remembered most of all was that she had arrived at the palace that day with her heart and left without it. For sometime during that encounter the Prince had stolen her heart without even trying and without her even knowing.

* * *

When she was 10, he was 12.

"Charles! Wait for me, I can't run as fast as you," Ella panted breathlessly as Charles dragged her in tow, hushing her and not sounding out of breath in the slightest. She huffed in annoyance both at him and the fact that her long shirt was tangling around her ankles and making it even harder to put one foot in front of the other. As the two of them flew around a corner, Ella nearly lost her balance on the slippery floor but, being the graceful thing she was, was able to catch herself and keep running. "Charles, would you at least tell what it is we're running from?"

"In here!" He called excitedly, completely ignoring the younger girl's question. He let go of her wrist and dashed to one of the enormous doors on their left. He heaved it open and slipped inside. She signed and followed after him, he held the door for her and shut it as silently as he could once she was safely inside. The room they had entered was a small study, well, small for the palace anyway. It was enormous compared to her father's office. Shelves lined the walls, as tall as the ceiling, there must have been thousands of books in that room. Ella had never understood how the palace could house so many books. Beside this room there was a separate library that was almost triple the size of the current room. She figured there must be repeats for there to be that many books because she was pretty sure the royal family owned more books than had ever been written.

Ella flopped into one of the big leather chairs that were arranged in front of a large oak desk that was carved with lovely designs and seemed much too fancy for a room the was most likely seldom used. She closed her eyes, sucking in a multitude of deep breaths in an attempt to calm her racing heart. She felt a bit light head from the exertion for she was a fragile girl whose father could become a bit worrisome at times and did not particularly like it when his daughter engaged in any activity that might cause her frail body to fail. Of course, she hadn't told the prince that. She wanted to look strong and adventurous in his eyes, not weak and boring like so many of the princesses he liked to complain about. The prince still held her heart and she planned to be noticed, not blend in with the crowd.

When she had finally calmed down she opened her eyes only to find her heart racing again. Charles had his handsome face poised but an inch from hers, a smile evident upon him.

"That was great, wasn't it, Ella?" he whispered. She scrunched up her nose and pushed the boy away from her. She repositioned herself in the large armchair before straightening her hair and skirt.

"I guess, but what exactly were we running from?" She questioned casually. Their little marathon had begun the moment she'd stepped foot in the castle. Over the years she had learned that their fathers, despite being of a different social status, had studied together and remained friends to this day. They had stop by so that her father may have a word with the king when Charles had flown out of nowhere, grabbing her wrist and darting away. For some reason she had followed without question and ended up here.

"Dunno." He confessed with a mischievous smirk. Ella furrowed her eyebrows angrily. This boy would be the death of her. He noticed her look of distaste and let out an apologetic laugh. "Sorry. Where do you want to go?"

"The kitchen, of course. I'm parched and that run certainly made me a bit hungry." She stood from her chair and padded toward the door, her back turned cooly on the prince. He beat her to it however, politely pushing open the large metal door for the much smaller female.

"Thank you, _your Highness._" She put emphases on the formal term, her voice dripping with malice. He frowned for he hated being called that, or anything like it, especially by Ella. He followed her into the corridor, copying her steps in silence and thoughtfulness. Why did it bother him so when Ella addressed him formally? They had been friends for ever so long, was it simply that he _felt _ as though they were equals? Technically they weren't so maybe it was that he wanted it to seem as though they were, in fact, equals? Whatever the reason was, Charles didn't have time to figure out because voices and footsteps could suddenly be heard, their owners about to turn the corner.

Without thinking, he grabbed Ella, one arm pulling at her thin waist, the other clasping over her mouth. Ella's eyes widened in surprise as she was dragged behind a hanging tapestry. She felt the princes chest rising and falling slowly against her shoulders and began to struggle to escape his grasp but was quickly shushed by the prince. She obediently fell silent and soon realized that she recognized the voices echoing through the hall. One belonged to her father, the other, to the king, Charles' father.

"I understand where you're coming from. My reasons are a bit twisted but it's okay if it's for Isabella, isn't it?" That was her father speaking.

"What makes you think it's what she wants? She could always stay here after. She's always welcome." The king.

"That's a very kind offer but I think this place is much too big for her and I don't think this is about what she wants but what she needs. Life in a palace full of formalities and no real influential figure close to her? Not for Isabella. What she needs is a mother." Ella's eyebrows knit together in confusion. She was having a hard time processing and she wasn't sure of what she was hearing.

"She has a mother! She's just-"

"Yes, I know but what she needs is a mother figure present in her life, someone to care for her and love her once I'm gone! I know you don't think it's a good idea but I'm marrying her for Ella." Ella's gasp definitely would have given them away if not for Charles' hand. Marriage? Her father was getting married? She didn't need a mother, she didn't want one! She had a mother she loved despite her being dead. She didn't want to share her father or call anyone but her real mother mom. Didn't he understand that?

Ella began to sink to the floor and Charles went along with her. She sat against him, his hand now removed from her mouth to wipe away the silent tears that streaked her pale cheeks. He pulled her head against his chest, cradling it as she buried her face into his collar bone. Her tears of sheer confusion and lack of understanding stained his shirt but he couldn't care less. He hummed a sweet melody to calm her, he didn't know what song it was the tune belonged to but it didn't seem to matter. All he cared about at the moment was Ella.

* * *

When she was 11, he was 13.

Ella shuffled nervously in the new gown her father had bought her specifically for today, the Prince's 13th birthday. His father always threw his son a spectacular ball for his birthday and this year was no exception. Everyone in the kingdom was invited along with some princesses from far off lands and ambassadors from different countries. Charles was obviously bored to death having to greet all of the guests and receive the same well mannered birthday wishes from each family but it seemed the King had yet to notice.

They'd arrived as a family, though she hated to think of Anastasia and Drizella as sisters or Lady Tremaine as her mother but she didn't want to upset her father so she went along with it. She knew that her father did not truthfully love his new wife and Ella understood that she always came first, that he valued her over anything. She also loved this little secret that her and her father kept between the two of them; the secret that they were no strangers to the royal family.

"Lord Tremaine and his wife, Lady Tremaine accompanied by their three daughters Isabella, Anastasia and Drizella." Ella's heart skipped a beat as their name was called and they approached the Prince. She wasn't sure why exactly she was nervous but as her eyes caught his and she saw his face brighten ever so slightly the feeling ebbed a bit. As they walked Anastasia and Drizella bicker quietly in complaint to the order in which their names were called. Ella rolled her eyes as they began to claw and rip at each other's clothing quite noticeably until they were right before the prince. They quickly ran forward and curtsied in an obnoxious and rather ugly manner. Charles' eyes found hers again and he mouthed: "Ug-ly". She bit her lip to stifle a giggle and then the next family was called and their moment was lost.

Ella spent most of the night helplessly bored out of her mind. While her step-sisters followed the prince around like rabid dogs as he spent time to more formally converse with important guests, Ella lounged in a corner stuffing her face with chocolate cake and a sweet fruity drink she'd never tasted before but loved and was probably fattening. At some point her father found her and settled into a chair next to her, stealing a bite of chocolate cake as he did.

"What's wrong, darling? You're not usually one for sweets." He commented through a mouthful of fudgy cake crumbs.

"It's nothing." she mumbled, stabbing her fork into her piece of cake menacingly.

"It's definitely something." her father mused knowingly.

"It's just-" Ella sat back in her seat, her cheeks puffing in annoyance. She wasn't sure how she felt but she knew she was upset about something. "Why do we come to these things if I don't even get to _talk _to Charles?"

"Sounds like somebody's jealous." Her father's eyes glinted mischievously and his daughter flushed.

"Am not. Just bored."

"Alright, whatever you say," he stood with a stretch before leaning over and placing a soft kiss on Ella's forehead. "Personally, I think Charles is just as bored as you are and would love to dance with a certain little girl I know."

Ella patted her father's cheek affectionately. Her eyes searched his, they looked old despite his young age. He looked so tired and his skin looked so frail. Grey had already begun to streak its way through his brown locks. He smiled down on her lovingly before pulling her to her feet and directing her in the direction of Charles. He stood before a gaudily dressed old woman who was talking without pausing for reply leaving the prince to simply nod and look tired. When his eyes shifted to the right of the woman's face he saw her. She was being maneuvered in his direction by her father and even though he had already seen her tonight she had been sheltered slightly behind her father, just like the day they'd met. Now he saw her clearly, he realized how beautiful she looked. Her dress made her look taller and her skin glowed. Her cheeks were dusted with a light pink from embarrassment or makeup he didn't know but didn't care. Her gold hair fell in large wave-like curls around her face. She was looking down at the floor and an image of the six year old Ella flashed through his mind. She still wasn't old enough to be beautiful but somehow she had managed and he knew she would only grow more so than she already was. He swept past the still talking woman without thinking. All eyes were on him as he marched toward her. Ella's father began to back away mouthing the words: "Don't break her while I'm gone! Adieu!" before disappearing into the crowd that had now formed a circle around the Prince and the girl.

"Isabella," her head snapped up at the sound of her name. Their eyes met, blue on blue. He bowed, offering a hand. "May I have this dance?"

She bit back a smile that was too wide not to keep hidden despite her feeble effort. She placed one of her delicate hands in his, accepting his offer with a soft nod of the head. His hand closed around her fingers pulling her to him, his other hand fell to her slim hip and hers to his broad shoulder. Almost as soon as they came together a song began, soft and sweet and vaguely familiar. She couldn't match the tune with a memory but she thought she remembered it being hummed.

Ella had never danced in her life but with Charles to lead her and her natural grace it didn't seem to matter. They slowly swayed and spun across the ballroom as all of its occupants had respectfully gathered around the edges of the room to allow space for the waltzing pair. The pair who were gazing so deeply into the other's eyes they didn't even notice their surroundings. They were dancing on clouds for all they knew and honestly, they felt as though they were. Each wondering why their heart was fluttering so...

There was a sudden gasp from the crowd on one end of the ballroom. The couple was yanked out of their day dream. Charles kept Ella in his arms, he didn't want to let go. But then there was a scream and Ella was out of his arms in an instant.

_"Lord Tremaine is dead!"_

* * *

**A/N: Hello! Thank you for reading this far, I hope you enjoyed it! Whether you did or did not please leave me a review and tell me what you think! This is my first time posting anything that's longer than a couple paragraphs (I write for a scenario blog on tumblr)! I will try and get the next chapter out soon but I don't know... School and stuff. Anyway, please, please, please tell me what I can do to improve! It would mean the world to me!**

**~littlestarxoxo**


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